


Get Your Flirt On (Or: How to Stare Your Way into a Date)

by InsaneJuliann



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Enemies to Lovers, M/M, Quidditch, Winteriron Holiday Exchange
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-05
Updated: 2019-01-05
Packaged: 2019-10-01 04:02:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17237042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsaneJuliann/pseuds/InsaneJuliann
Summary: Bucky's come to Hogwarts for his seventh year, and joins the Quidditch team at the persistence of his friends Clint and Steve. Through a Quidditch game he meets Tony - competitive and constantly sending Bucky challenging looks. Bucky has no idea what his deal is - or why everyone he knows thinks Tony's not as much of a jerk as their little stare-offs would make him seem.





	Get Your Flirt On (Or: How to Stare Your Way into a Date)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nantai](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nantai/gifts).



> I hope you enjoy it - and have had a good holiday season, end to your year, and start of the new one.
> 
> Thanks to my friends peonyfeather and dreamcatchersdaughter for reading it over and reassuring me that no, I do not suck at writing things, yes, it makes sense, and listening to me complain about every time I got stuck and had to figure out how to get from where I was to where I wanted to go with the story. You two are troopers and fantastic friends. Much love.

“You should totally try out,” Steve said, appearing at his side in the corridor outside the Great Hall after breakfast. Bucky shot him a quelling look, not that it was effective on Steve at _all_.

“Maybe,” Bucky muttered.

“Clint’s on the team.” Steve hefted his bag higher up on his shoulder. “He’s the Seeker.”

“I said maybe, punk,” Bucky grunted, shoving him in the shoulder.

Steve grinned and shoved him right back, before leading the way down towards the doors. They both had Herbology in the morning, and aside from Defense Against the Dark Arts in the late afternoon, they didn’t have much time to see each other. Hogwarts was kind of weird about Houses not interacting too much in the Great Hall for meals, so Bucky sat with Clint and Jan, usually. Clint was a disaster and Jan was a chatterbox and somehow they were his best friends aside from Steve now.

Steve dropped it for the rest of the day – or Bucky figured he had, until Clint plopped down next to him during lunch and said, “So you’re gonna try out?” He yanked a plate closer and started piling a bunch of food on top.

Bucky grunted, glaring.

Clint didn’t even look his way. “We’ve got a spot open for a beater and two chasers.”

Bucky didn’t reply that time, but Clint just nudged him with an elbow. Bucky winced from it and scowled – Clint had ridiculously sharp elbows for a guy with such beefy arms. Clint just grinned and him and raised his brows.

“So? Are you actually going to get to interacting with people besides me or Janet?”

“I interact with people.”

“Steve doesn’t count,” Clint said, waving his hand. “He already knows your murder-scowl doesn’t mean squat.”

Rolling his eyes, Bucky focused on his plate. “I’m thinking about it,” he finally said. “I like Quidditch, and I’m good at flying.”

“That’s all we really ask,” Clint laughed. “If you’re halfway decent at handling a ball too, you’ll probably make it. I know none of the other seventh years wanna try out, and Parker from third year’s thinking about it, and there’s some fifth and fourth years. But still, even if you don’t make it, it could be fun.”

“What could be fun?” Janet asked, plopping down across from them. She started using her wand to change the color of her nails to a golden yellow color from the light pink they’d been. “And can I join?”

“Quidditch.”

She eyed Bucky. “Oh.” The slowly growing smile on her face was downright unnerving. “You’re going to try out? Good. Extra curriculars are good for a healthy lifestyle. It’ll give you an outlet.”

“Outlet?”

“Sure. Everyone needs an outlet for stress and unpleasant emotions.” She beamed at him. “Mine’s fashion designing and shopping.”

“She’s got plans to put Madame Malkin out of business,” Clint stage whispered. Janet rolled her eyes.

Bucky smiled a little as they fell into their usual bantering.

Transferring to Hogwarts for his last year had not been something he’d been particularly excited for; aside from getting to see Steve during the entire year, not just the summers, he hadn’t seen too many upsides besides the whole ‘not being at Durmstrang’. But his House was friendly, and Clint and Jan had dragged him into being friends with them, and it could be worse, he figured.

 

~*~*~

 

Bucky would tell anyone who asked – not that anyone but Steve did – that the only reason he went to the team tryouts was because Clint ambushed and dragged him there. It was a bullshit lie, and Steve snorted loudly showing that he knew that, but Bucky stood by it.

He made it onto the team as a Beater, and started going to practices. He got to know more people in his House, and found more people talking to him when he sat for meals. It was a little less lonely which was nice. He wouldn’t lie.

He also got to meet Clint’s best friend Natasha. She came to practices to – so far as Bucky could tell – chirp the living hell out of Clint. She told him that he flew slow, laughed when he went into a barely-controlled roll when he missed trying to catch a snitch, and made his post-practice windswept and sweaty hair a bigger mess when they landed and started trudging back to the locker rooms.

She also spoke Russian, and told Bucky his accent was “passable”.

“At least I’ll have someone to talk to in Russian now,” she mused. “It’s the best language after all.” She said this with a straight, very serious expression. Bucky still was able to catch the little glint of humor in her eyes though and grinned in response.

“And we can talk shit about people without them knowing what we’re saying,” Bucky added.

Natasha’s grin bloomed, huge and bright and beautiful. “Yes.”

Bucky learned he had a class with Natasha – Potions – and immediately started partnering up with her during class. They muttered to each other in Russian throughout class, about the professor, their classmates, ways they thought the potion could be fiddled with, maybe, or what would happen if they changed something up.

It was fun.

 

~*~*~

 

The first game of the season came upon them quickly. They were facing off against Ravenclaw, which Natasha said was “lucky, because if it was my House they’d kick your ass.”

“They could try,” Bucky had said back, and she’d laughed. Bucky was sure it’d come back up when Hufflepuff did face Slytherin.

Bucky sat on his section of bench before the game started, already changed, broom ready next to him, and leaned forward on his knees. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, settling his mind into blankness in preparation for the game ahead. Clint was perched on his broom floating up above everyone’s heads, staring blankly into the distance, tossing a small beanbag ball up and down between his hands. Others on the team were doing their own little pre-game routines – polishing broomsticks, kicking a football between a small group of themselves, stretches – until the enchanted clock in the room tolled to let them know it was ten till the game’s start time, time for them to get out to the field.

Clint dropped off his broom and landed on the ground in front of Bucky. He clapped him on the shoulder.

“Ready?” he asked cheerfully.

Bucky nodded, silent, and stood, grabbing his broom in one hand, bat in the other.

 

~*~*~

 

It was a brutal game. Surprisingly so, a kind of vicious competitiveness that was typically only seen when Gryffindor played Slytherin. It lasted over three hours, and all of them were feeling the strain in their muscles from flying for so long without stop, full speed basically the whole time. Bucky’s arms ached from swinging the beater bat so often, once having had to race after one of the Ravenclaw Chasers and give a wild hit of the bludger to throw off the chaser’s throw of the quaffle at the posts. It ended when Clint finally caught the snitch out of a ridiculous diving turn around one of the keeper’s posts.

Bucky leapt onto Clint once they were on the ground celebrating, rubbing his knuckles roughly into Clint’s hair. The rest of the team was also jumping and hugging each other, and for the first time in a while the press of so many people didn’t make Bucky feel on edge.

That might be the adrenaline, he figured, or maybe he was starting to relax and trust these witches and wizards more. Hogwarts may have its own little inner politics, but it was nothing like at Durmstrang, where you had to watch your back with everyone, couldn’t _trust_ anyone fully. Maybe it was safe to let more people close.

Beyond the shouts and cheers of his teammates and friends in his ears, Bucky heard vicious cursing and the cracking snap of wood.

One of the Chasers from the Ravenclaw team was flushed and scowling, a clearly snapped broomstick in his hands.

Glaring daggers at Bucky.

When he saw Bucky staring at him, he turned even redder, turned on his heel, and stomped away.

Rolling his eyes, Bucky turned back to celebrating. What did he care about some sore-loser Ravenclaw? He was going to enjoy this.

 

~*~*~

 

Bucky noticed that he shared Defense Against the Dark Arts class with the Ravenclaw Chaser a week later, when he was called forward by the professor to assist with a demonstration. He looked bored and almost a bit amused, like it was all beneath him or something.

Again, he caught Bucky looking. This time he smirked, lifting his chin and raising a brow, arrogant and weirdly challenging.

It kind of set the tone for things.

 

~*~*~

 

Bucky had two other classes with the Ravenclaw Chaser, Tony. Potions and Transfiguration.

Tony was a cocky little bastard, a bit of a show off, and constantly shooting Bucky these challenging, smug glances.

“What’s his problem anyway?” Bucky grumbled to Nat after their Potions class, on the way to lunch.

“Whose problem?” she asked, clearly only half paying attention as she glared away two second years from the bench next to Bucky. Nat apparently didn’t care to follow the whole House separation thing as much as most other students at Hogwarts did.

“That – that Tony guy. The Ravenclaw Chaser? He’s in our Potions class.”

“Oh,” Nat said, with a small laugh. Switching to Russian, she continued, “He’s still sore about you nearly knocking him off his broom during the game.”

“I what now?”

“You know – he was about to score and you sent that bludger flying at him? Right before Clint caught the snitch.”

Bucky vaguely remembered that. “It’s just a damned game.”

Nat shrugged. “He’s competitive.”

“He’s an asshole.”

Laughing loudly, Nat switched back to English just to say, “Have you met our mutual friend Steve?”

Bucky rolled his eyes and only didn’t shove her off the bench because she’d make him regret it.

Jan dropped into the seat next to Nat, anyway, saying, “What about Steve? Did he beat someone up again?”

“No,” Natasha said, looking amused. “I was saying Steve is an asshole. As much as Tony is.”

Jan _brightened_ of all things. “Tony! He’s a big softie!”

“He’s a jerk.”

“Like Steve is,” Natasha said, pointedly, and Jan nodded in agreement. “Tony only gets all jerky when he’s feeling defensive or…” She eyed Bucky considering, then nodded. “Or when he’s being an idiot about feelings.”

Natasha’s eyes lit up with a gleam Bucky wanted no part of. He grabbed his plate and all but lunged to farther down the other side of the table, where a couple of the team – Skye and Trip – were sitting eating their own lunch.

“You two are saner than them, right?” he asked, only partially joking. Trip leaned around Bucky with a curious look, stared at Jan and Nat leaning close and talking with delighted looks on their faces, and sat back again.

“Hopefully,” he said dryly.

“What are they talking about?” Skye asked, looking interested.

“Probably plots to take over the wizarding world,” Bucky grumbled. The other two laughed, but if anyone could do it, Bucky was pretty sure it was those two. (They shot him a few gleeful, amused looks throughout lunch. Bucky was not reassured.)

 

~*~*~

 

The team had a week of late practice before their upcoming game against Gryffindor. Bucky hated late practices – it got cold and damp this time of year, he went to bed sore because their captain was way too intense about practice drills for it being a school team, and he was always hungry afterwards, even though he’d already eaten dinner.

But it wasn’t like he got a vote on the practice times, so he did it with minimal bitching, mostly only to Clint who also hated them.

One night on the way back inside from practice, Bucky and Clint almost bumped into Tony. He stopped his conversation with a redhead, who rolled her eyes behind Tony’s back as he sauntered closer to them.

“Burning the midnight oil?”

“You’re one to talk,” Clint snorted. He yawned, scratching his jaw, and went to move around Tony.

Tony ignored him, still staring at Bucky. “You-“

“Oh my _god_ ,” Clint groaned, stretching past Tony and yanking Bucky along with him. “C’mon you idiot.”

Bucky let Clint drag him away but glared over his shoulder at Tony. Tony gave him a cheeky smirk and wave right before they turned the corner.

“He’s an asshole.”

Clint huffed something like a laugh, if he hadn’t started to yawn almost as soon as opening his mouth. “Eh, no more than anyone else that plays Quidditch really.” When he noticed Bucky’s unconvinced look, he insisted, “No, really. Actually,” he leaned closer to Bucky, “Tony’s a pretty cool guy. Seriously. He just gets stupidly competitive about Quidditch games. Tries out different potions and charms for his broom, gear, whatever. Nothing illegal, but you know, like, a potion to improve the grip on his broom and stuff. He’s weird, but harmless.”

“Sure,” Bucky said, rolling his eyes.

Clint rolled his right back. “Whatever. Don’t believe me. Doesn’t mean I’m wrong.” They ducked inside the common room, Clint waving to one of the third years sitting on the couch in front of the fireplace and clearly ignoring her homework.

“Steve’ll tell you the same thing if you ask him,” Clint added as they changed for bed, when Bucky had thought the subject dropped. “He and Tony bicker like, all the time, but they’re super close. I guess there was like, a _thing_ or something with them in fourth year, I don’t know, Nat mentioned it. But they’re friends. And you trust Steve’s judgment, don’t you?” Clint eyed him shrewdly.

“What do you care if I like this guy or not anyway?” Bucky demanded.

“I don’t, really,” Clint said, plopping onto his mattress. “But like, we don’t need any grudges getting you into trouble and kicked off the team, or missing games, y’know? So.”

“I wouldn’t do anything stupid like that. I’m not _Steve_ ,” Bucky complained.

Clint shot him a look, shrugged, and pointedly yanked the covers over his head.

“Whatever, man. Just sayin’. Night.”

 

~*~*~

 

“Clint said you and Tony had a thing?” Bucky asked that weekend, during a Hogsmead visit. Steve almost choked on his butterbeer which was hilarious.

“A thing? Like a – a _thing?”_

Bucky raised a brow, silently questioning. Steve shook his head, hard.

“No. Tony and I did not have a – a thing like that.” He paused, thoughtfully sipped at his butterbeer. “We did, like, take care of this bully together though. He was picking on some first years, so we uh. Got him to stop.”

“Of course you did,” Bucky sighed.

“I was telling him off one day, and Tony overheard I guess. He found me the next day in the library, just sat himself down at my table and started babbling about this plan of attack he had for the situation.” Steve grinned, wide and mischievous. “He tweaked a bunch of Zonko’s stuff, it was hilarious.”

Bucky eyed him, considering. Steve was, generally, a good judge of character.

“Why was Clint talking about Tony and I anyway?” Steve asked. “Is someone picking on the first years again or something?”

“No,” Bucky shook his head. “At least, not that I know of.”

“Alright. So?”

“So Tony’s an asshole.”

Steve burst out in loud laughter. Bucky gave him a sullen look, but it just seemed to make Steve laugh even harder. “Oh my god, is this because of the Quidditch game?”

“What if it is?”

Steve struggled to control his laughter. When he did, he was still grinning, eyes dancing. “Look. Tony’s one of my best friends. Like you. And if I know anything about him, it’s that he both really loves a challenge, and hates getting stumped by something unexpected. Also that he’s terrible at flirting.”

“What does that-“

Steve waggled his brows.

“No way,” Bucky disagreed.

Steve shrugged, sipping his drink, looking very pleased with himself. “Maybe you should try actually talking to him. He tutors first years in the library on Sunday mornings. He’ll behave himself mostly in front of them.”

“And why would I want to talk to him? What would I even talk to him about?” Bucky asked, exasperated.

“I don’t know. You’re both pretty into Quidditch, and you have some classes together. I’m sure you’ll figure something out.”

Steve was the _least helpful friend ever_ , Bucky decided.

 

~*~*~

 

Bucky didn’t have much of a plan when he went looking for Tony in the library. Which he was only doing, he told himself, because if he didn’t Steve would _pester_ him about it. And Bucky wanted to avoid that.

He didn’t have much of a plan, so of course when he did stumble across Tony, patiently explaining how a potion worked to a bunch of first years from different Houses, he kind of just – stood there.

Tony noticed him – his eyes flicked Bucky’s way and he quirked a brow for a moment before focusing on the kids again. He didn’t do anything, though, until the kids were busy copying down what he’d written on a floating board.

“Can I help you?”

And because Bucky didn’t really have a plan, he blurted out, “Steve told me to try actually talking to you, instead of just glaring at you.”

Tony blinked, then barked a little laugh. He grinned, all cheeky. “Did he now? I either owe him a firewhiskey, or a jelly-legs jinx then.”

Bucky frowned. Tony’s grin widened.

Eyes narrowing, Bucky said slowly, “He also told me you’re really awful at flirting.”

Tony’s cheeks went a bit pink, but he covered it well with some exaggerated shock, setting his hand over his chest and proclaiming how insulted he was.

“If you’ve been flirting with me this whole time, I’ve gotta tell you, someone should show you how it’s really done.”

Tony’s grin went sly, and softer maybe, and he gave Bucky a challenging look. “Oh? And who should that someone be? You, mister tall and brooding?”

Bucky felt lips turn up in an unexpected grin. “Wouldn’t you like that?”

 

~*~*~

 

“Ugh,” Clint groaned, dropping down onto the ground next to Bucky’s stall, broom in one hand and his beanbag ball in the other. “Tony’s outside.”

Bucky made a vague noise, finished pulling his robes on and straightening them, and checked his broom. Then he went to see what Tony wanted, ignoring Clint’s loud complaining behind him.

“Hey,” Tony greeted him. His eyes did a slow scan down Bucky and back up. He waggled his brows, dramatic and theatrical and completely dorky.

Bucky sighed. “God you’re fucking hopeless,” he muttered. Three months of dating, and Tony still was absolutely terrible at flirting – too cheesy, or too subtle, or too challenging and not charming enough. Jokingly trying to “teach” Tony to flirt, hiding out in the astronomy tower after supper one night for their first date (under the unconvincing guise of giving Tony flirting lessons) had made that clear. He couldn’t get through a charming compliment for Bucky without breaking into laughter or shifting into something gently mocking.

Of course, Bucky’d learned the more sincerely charming Tony appeared, the less he meant anything. It’d drop off his face after like a mask, leaving annoyance and grumpiness behind. Bucky enjoyed chasing that away with kisses behind statues and in hidden corners. (Running before the prefects could catch them, laughing the whole way, and ducking into the kitchens to hide because the house elfs were the coolest, Bucky had learned.)

“You like it,” Tony said, shrugging. He stepped closer, curling his fingers into the side of Bucky’s robes. “So. Playing Slytherin. Tough team.”

“You play them next.”

Tony hummed. He glanced up, smirking. “Wanna make it interesting?”

Bucky grinned, hands settling on Tony’s waist and leaning back against the wall. “Always. What’re you thinking?”

Tony opened his mouth, only to pause when one of the younger players on Bucky’s team poked his head out and said Bucky was supposed to be back soon to go over some last minute strategy.

Bucky waved the kid off.

Licking his lips, Tony switched to Italian. Bucky was never so grateful for his parents having him learn so many different languages as a kid than he was right then, as Tony offered up a wager for the game. They’d only done this once before, when Tony’s team played Gryffindor. That time, there’d been a wager around how many points Tony could score, and if his team won. Kisses for each score made by Tony, and date-decision rights for the two weeks if they won.

(Tony had scored five times, but the team had lost, so Bucky got the date-decision rights. Tony had not wasted much time in collecting his kisses – and convincing Bucky that a make out session counted as one prolonged kiss. Bucky hadn’t been that hard to convince.)

Bucky was grinning, whispering in Tony’s ear his own idea for a game wager, when Clint poked his head out, hand over his eyes like an idiot.

“Is it safe? You guys are talking in your little secret language again, I wasn’t sure if you were dirty talking or what.”

“It’s not a secret language, Barton, it’s Italian,” Tony scoffed.

“Whatever. I still wasn’t sure if you guys were trying to get it on out here or not, and I don’t need to see that _again_ -“

“You see me shirtless all the time, you were hardly traumatized,” Bucky said.

“-anyway!” Clint said, pointedly. “Captain wants you to get back in for strategy, and to stop ‘consorting with the enemy’ or whatever.”

“Trust me – I’m good motivation for him to win,” Tony said, and Clint made a disgusted noise before going back inside.

Bucky huffed a laugh, and pressed a kiss to Tony’s lips one last time. “Alright. Wish me luck.”

“Of course. Don’t fall off your broom, this time,” Tony said, darting out of reach while Bucky tried to swipe at him.

“That was one time, asshole!” he shouted.

Tony just smirked, walking backwards, giving him a challenging look. “One time more than I have!”

Bucky rolled his eyes, and slipped back inside after waving Tony off. He knew Tony was going to sit with Steve, Natasha, and Jan, because they all had plans to slip into one of the many secret rooms around the castle with some sweets and drinks and celebrate the game, however it went.

“You two are disgusting,” Clint stated when Bucky settled beside him, ignoring the pointed glare from the team captain.

“Jealous,” Bucky stated.

“Nope. I am not at all jealous of your two’s weird competitive flirting thing. You two are just really weird and disgustingly into each other.” Clint made a face, like he was grossed out by it all. Bucky knew he was mostly exaggerating, because Clint had helped him figure out some details for that first date and been smug as hell about them getting together. Like he’d had anything to do with it.

Bucky shrugged, smirking.

“And you thought he was an asshole,” Clint snorted, quietly. He was shaking his head, but also grinning.

“He is. But like you said – so’s most our friends.”

"Yeah, but they at least don't have weird flirting rituals. I still can't believe just staring at you all the time actually worked," Clint muttered.

Bucky laughed - because yeah, it shouldn't have really worked. "I mean, really, it was more like me almost knocking him off his broom and beating him at Quidditch that started it," he mused. "And then Tony just kept showing off and staring."

"Like I said - weird competitive flirting thing." He hopped to his feet as the captain finished the little strategy session, and clapped a hand on Bucky's shoulder. "Look, I don't care except how you play better when showing off for Tony, so - go get your flirt on."


End file.
